Living Beautifully Chapter 11: T'sup My Homies, a harry potter fanfic

Disclaimer: It's not mine. The only thing I own is now a chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream cone, still waiting for me at the ice cream parlor.

Harry descended the stairs slowly, his mind still groggy from sleep. It was only five in the morning, and yet he already knew whom he would find.

Ronald Weasley was curled up in a chair, looking at the fireplace still crackling in front of him. He looked up, startled, as Harry sat in the chair next to him.

"Oh—hey mate. Did I wake you?"

Harry smiled. "No, no. I just—couldn't sleep is all." It was a lie. Ron nodded absentmindedly.

"So. What are you doing down here?" Harry knew the answer already. He had been hearing the same thing for four months, the same response, and yet he never stopped harboring a hope that it would change.

"Just—missing her, you know?" Ron made a face at the fire, still flickering. "Just thinking about her."

Harry nodded, brushing back his hair. "Well. I'm going for a walk. Care to join me?"

"What? No, go on, I'll just stay here." Ron fingered a thread on the chair, and his freckles seemed to pale. Harry nodded. He knew Ron would fall asleep soon, and wake the next morning, forgetting his dreams.

Harry himself slept fitfully. There were always the dreams, and that coupled with the fact that he had probably been the only one to recover. He had seen death before, firsthand, and witnessed it over and over again.

As he pushed open the portrait and wandered down the hallways, he mused silently to himself. It was a marvel that not one of them knew that they had all become insomniacs. Everyone had trouble sleeping.

After he had found Ron leaning dangerously close to the fire, he had learned to watch them. Make sure they were ok, you know?

He entered the library, padding softly across the carpeted room until he found what he was looking for.

A head of bushy brown hair leaned over a book, scribbling furiously on a parchment next to it. Muttered words were acknowledged, and Harry circled the desk cautiously.

"Hermione?"

She jumped, then relaxed. "Oh, Harry. It's only you."

"What are you doing?"

She eyed him oddly. "Don't I answer this every night, Harry?" He shrugged, blinking innocently.

"I forget." He kept her talking to keep her sane.

She sighed. "I just wanted to see if I could find some information on that evil witch. Maybe we could do something about it. Maybe we could—," here she stopped, and her eyes glistened. "Maybe we could bring her back, you know?"

Harry nodded. "Good night, Hermione."

She didn't reply as he walked out. He only heard a slight pause, before the scratching of her quill started up again.

Harry found himself rushing to find the next ones, the only ones that mourned together. He knew where they would be, and yet it still startled him as to how they would always find each other, regardless of the fact that they didn't speak during the day.

The lake was eerily calm as he approached it, and as he walked to the weeping willow on its bank, his eyes sought out the figures underneath it. They looked up, and then nodded. He managed a strained smile.

"Hey there, Blaise, Soleil."

Blaise was holding the younger girl in his arms, as she curled up in his lap. Harry tried not to look at the scar that ran from her thigh to her ankle that was showing underneath her robes.

"How's Malfoy?"

Blaise's eyes darkened.

After the battle, Draco had collapsed. He'd been carried using a spell until they got outside of the house, but he had ridden his broomstick himself.

The six had ridden back to Hogwarts, where Dumbledore had been waiting for them at the door. His manner betrayed nothing; his eyes, pain.

Soleil and Hermione had spent two months in the Hospital Wing, suffering from head trauma and severe blood loss.

Draco hadn't spoken a word since. He didn't go to his classes, and ate alone, in the Head Boy's room, if he ate at all.

"I don't know." Blaise raised his eyes to Harry's. "Check on him?" He said abruptly. Harry didn't flinch. Instead, he nodded.

He wasn't sure exactly how he had gotten to the portrait. It was of a man, with icy blue eyes and jet-black hair, slicked back and glistening. Harry licked his lips, and whispered the words Blaise had told him. It was oddly ironic, he supposed. But then again…

"Loss."

Life was hardly rational.

The portrait swung open, but not before the man in the portrait gave Harry a pitying gaze, as if to say Draco was unreachable.

Inside, Harry realized, it looked like a neat freaks dream. There was a four-poster bed with green hangings, and a large, ornate desk in the corner. By the desk was a bookshelf, stacked with heavy and worn looking tomes. There was a mahogany door on the left side of the room. Harry supposed it to be the bathroom.

He spied Draco only after looking very hard. The boy (no, Harry supposed he'd better call him a man) was sitting in the window seat on the left of the room. He was curled up and covered by a silk, green sheet, with his elbow on his knee and his hand propping up his chin.

"Hey."

Draco barely turned to acknowledge him. He nodded slightly, and then resumed staring out the window.

"Can I sit?"

Without waiting for an answer (He didn't expect one) Harry dragged the chair over from the desk and plopped down into it, just next to Draco.

"…So, what's up? I don't suppose you'd know, though, seeing as you've been locked up for so long. We've been wondering how you get your food delivered, you know. Hermione suspects it's house-elves doing, maybe Winky, she's always looking for a bit of work to do. Thank the Gods she stopped drinking."

Draco didn't blink, and Harry was started to feel really stupid. He was just babbling now, but he'd promised Blaise to stay for at least an hour. He glanced at the watch on his hand. It read 5:30 AM. Another 60 minutes to go.

Harry scrutinized the boy (man!) before him. Draco was wearing a crisp white shirt over gray slacks, with his robes folded neatly next to him. His wand had been carelessly stuck into his pocket. Over the months, he had not trimmed his hair, and it had grown at a somewhat alarming rate. Now he had to tie it back with a band, but it was not so long that he resembled his father. Rather, it ended up curling slightly at his shoulders.

Harry caught a glint and looked down. On Draco's finger was a small ring, with a smooth cut crystal inside. It was swirling with a dark blue and black color, and in the background he could make out a tinge of red.

"Hey!" He said suddenly, and Draco cocked his head towards him. "That's one of the rings Soleil and Ginny were selling!" Harry hardly noticed the way Draco stiffened at the name. He was too busy examining the ring.

"Hey. D'you think you could play it? Just to see?" Harry's voice was earnest, and Draco looked at him icily. Harry wilted slightly.

"Just a suggestion…" He blushed.

"Play." Draco's voice shocked him to no ends. It sounded hoarse and soft as it would if he had not spoken for so long. Harry almost didn't catch the beginning of the song.

It starts with

One thing, I don't know why

It doesn't even matter how hard you try

Keep that in mind I designed this rhyme

To explain in due time

All I know, time is a valuable thing

Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings

Watch it count down to the end of the day

The clock ticks life away

It's so unreal, didn't look out below

Watch the time go right out the window

Trying to hold on but didn't even know

Wasted it all just to watch you go

I kept everything inside and even though I tried it all fell apart

What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when

I tried so hard

And got so far

But in the end

It doesn't even matter

I had to fall

To lose it all

But in the end

It doesn't even matter

"Stop." Draco murmured. Harry glanced up at him, shocked.

"I suppose that's regret?" The blonde flicked some hair from his eyes, and Harry leaned back in his chair.

"There are others. I saw more than one emotion present on your ring, Draco." He shot a look at Draco, who ignored it and fingered the ring. Then;

"Play."

All around me are familiar faces

Worn out places

Worn out faces

Bright and early for their daily races

Going nowhere

Their tears are filling up their glasses

No expression

Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow

No tomorrow

And I find it kind of funny

I find it kind of sad

The dreams in which I'm dying

Are the best I've ever had

I find it hard to tell you

'Cause I find it hard to take

When people run in circles

It's a very very

Mad world

Children waiting for the day they feel good

Happy birthday

Made to feel the way that every child should

Sit and listen

Went to school and I was very nervous

No one knew me

Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson

Look right through me

Harry's brow furrowed. "I dunno what that is," he mused out loud. He hadn't expected Draco to answer, so he jumped slightly when his voice reached his ears.

"That's depression right there, Potter. How I feel."

Harry studied him closely. "All right then. Anything else?"

Draco gave him what could have been considered a murderous look. "No. There's nothing else!"

Harry leaned over quickly and found Draco was more right then he knew. There were no swirling colors, no spurting of circuits. The songs had simply run out.

"You've listened to this a lot, then?" Harry said. Draco nodded incomprehensibly. There was a sudden popping noise, and both boys leapt back as the ring began to flash wildly.

In a moment, a large blue orb had appeared just above the ring, and a sound began to assault them. Draco stared in wonder at the orb.

It was resonating Ginny's laugh.

And soon her face appeared. She stepped back, and smiled brightly at them. "There! I suppose I may have given you a heart attack, Malfoy, but all the better. I only wish I had been there to see you fall on you arse." She cleared her throat. "Now, as you know, I'm spending the night working on this ring. Soleil says you're not worth it."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm ignoring her, though. Seeing as you'll probably ditch this ring (that's what she said) I'm going to say a few things here, so listen closely."

Draco and Harry leaned in closely and she beamed.

"Now, Malfoy, I know everyone thinks you're a bratty prat, and a snarky toad. I agree." Harry couldn't help but laugh, and Draco scowled.

"However, I believe there is some good in you yet. D'you remember in my first year, when I was being controlled by Riddle, you pulled me aside in the hallway and asked if I was alright?"

Harry looked sideways. This information was clearly new. Draco, meanwhile, was getting a few faint remnants of a memory long discarded.

"Weasley!"

She'd turned, and he noticed how she looked even paler. Sneering, he had stopped just short of her.

"Not that I care or anything, but why in bloody hell have you been acting so weird, eh? You've eaten nothing, and you space out all the time. Has Potter ejected you?"

She was too happy that he had noticed her to care about the last comment. Someone had realized she existed.

"I'm fine." She said, and hugged him quickly, releasing him before he could push her away. "Thanks for asking." He had watched her walk away, bouncing a little, and scowled.

"Damn Weaselette. Ruined my robes."

"Anyways, it was something that made me think of you in a whole new light. I hadn't been afraid of you before, but now I felt like laughing when you teased me. I found out something that no one else ever did!" She punched the air triumphantly.

"Draco Malfoy has a heart! So, before you blast me into oblivion for daring to remind you of the memory or speaking to you, Draco, I would just like to say, thank you." She winked at him and blew a kiss, laughing. "You're not all that bad, Malfoy!"

And the orb burst, making millions of little bubbles in the air. Draco stared at them for a moment, lost in thought. Harry glanced at his watch.

7:00 AM. Everyone would be headed back to his or her rooms now. Blaise would walk Soleil to the Gryffindor common rooms, so…

"Draco." He said. The boy (man! Man! Man!) turned sharply at this use of his first name.

"What?" He asked irritably.

Harry's eyes shone through his glasses. "Do you remember what you said in second year? Before Ginny was slipped the book?"

"Yes Potter, I keep a diary of everything I say." Draco snapped. "Of course I don't! It was second year!"

"Well I do!" Harry cried. "You were bragging to Crabbe and Goyle about your vacation villa just next to Glasgow, and how your father used to take you there!"

"So?" Draco muttered.

"And then you said that your father was never around when you went there, because he was too busy working on something in another, secret villa. You told them about how you followed him there once, and found him exiting with the book, Riddle's diary!"

Draco remembered. It had been before the attacks had started, and he supposed Harry had never really put the conversation together with the Chamber of Secrets incident until just now.

"But what—oh." Draco stood suddenly, his mouth wide open. "Oh! I know where Desdemona is!"

"We're going to kill Desdemona!" Harry sang. He was surprised at first when Draco joined in, but then the two of them were dancing in a circle, tears of joy falling down their faces. Draco stopped abruptly.

"D'you remember, what that beats said when we were in the dungeons?" Harry shook his head, no.

"He said they were giving Ginny," He paused here. It was the first time he'd said her name in months. But then he shook his head and continued. "He said they were giving Ginny to their Mistress! That's Desdemona!"

"So Ginny's with Desdemona?" Harry's face brightened as Draco nodded slowly.

"Suit up!" crowed Harry. "Suit up! Suit up!"

"Shut up." Draco said, but a smile crossed his face all the same. " You remember how to deactivate your suit, right? Well, let me reverse the process…"

Dumbledore had given them the words, and although it had not registered at the time, he had also given them the reversal spell.

"Illanos Sordiate!" Draco and Harry cried at the same time. In a moment, a gold smoke surrounded them. When it cleared, they were dressed in their suits, with their weapons attached.

"Wanna have some fun?" Harry pointed to his earpiece.

Draco caught on quickly. The news of Ginny's well-being was affecting him rather well. "Let's go."

Hermione had met up with Blaise and Soleil on their way back, and had joined them. A tense silence surrounded them, and Hermione shifted her books to her other arm.

Draco watched from behind a suit of armor at the foot of the stairs, just as they began climbing up.

"Hey, Beta, they're heading your way."

Harry's voice crackled into his ear. "I'm Alpha! You're Beta!"

Draco snorted. "You're always leader. Shut up and get in position." Harry muttered a few choice four-letter words, but he soon came back.

"Ready."

Draco stepped out from the armor. It was dark in the hallway, and he could only just make out the three forms moving forward. He strung his bow, and aimed.

"I ought to hit you, Potter." He mumbled. A low chuckle reached his ears.

"Yeah, and then Ron'll kill you for killing me, and Blaise will kill Ron for killing you, and Hermione will kill Blaise for killing Ron, and Soleil will kill Hermione for killing Blaise. So y'see, you can't kill me, I'm essential."

Draco shot the arrow. "Ah, you lucky bastard."

Soleil let out a little shriek as something caught in her robes. Blaise and Hermione jumped, until the brown-haired witch muttered "Lumos" under her breath.

An arrow was protruding from Soleil's robes, and a piece of parchment was attached to it.

Hermione looked at it slowly, with Soleil reading over her shoulder. "What does it say?" Blaise asked.

"Illanos Sordiate," They both replied. And in an instant, they were both plunged inside the golden smoke. The two girls ended up coughing wildly before the smoke cleared, and when it did, they gazed at their suits in horror.

"Phase 1, complete." Draco mumbled.

"Thank the Gods they were too conked out to hear the words." Harry replied. "Now, let's make an entrance."

Draco climbed up the stairs, muttering, "I really hate you. I shoot the arrow, you get the grand entrance. You are too used to special treatment, Potter."

"Living the high life has always been my specialty. Signing off!" Draco scowled darkly as their transmission was ended.

Soleil and Hermione had to stifle screams as Draco came up behind them, bow and arrow clutched in hand, suit on. The three of them (Don't say you forgot about Blaise!) stared at him in horror, and Draco decided to have a little fun.

"T'sup, my homies!" he said, using something he'd heard Muggles said. "Dude, y'all looked stoked. Having a party?"

The fact that he was speaking, and using Muggle words, and the stupidest possible ones too, managed to make everyone keel over in pure shock.

Harry swung over the banister and glared at him.

"You slimy git! I didn't get to slide down the tapestry!" Draco shrugged and sauntered away.

"You can carry them, then, back to my room. Do your part in the plan."